L'Est Républicain

As I mentioned in an earlier post, there was a second article about the show. So for your reading pleasure (and the inflation of my ego), the review!

From L'Est Républicain:

"Voilà l'incroyable tourbillon de la jeune fille à la roue. Elle tourne, sur la tranche dans un sens un autre, se lance, s'arrête, minuscule dompteuse d'un engin infernal." - Catherine CHAILLET

Again, for those who don't speak French, loosely translated that means See the incredible whirl that is the young woman on the wheel. She turns, this way and that, launches out, stops, tiny master of an infernal machine.

You got that?

Tiny master of an infernal machine.

That one's going up on the wall.

Shift

My experiences with this company so far have pretty much taken all of my ideas and feelings towards circus and flipped them on their head. Being circus, that may actually be a good thing.

I've had a lot of firsts these past few days. The first performance of a new show, the first of potentially 400 performances, this is my first contract with a big company, and really, the first steps of my career! But more important are the 'firsts' I'm experiencing on an emotional level.

I'm an extremely nervous and worried person. I fret. I pace. Normally before a show, or just before my number, I'm a slight wreck. Already, this is the first time in my life where I don't need to run to use the bathroom before I go on stage. To me, that's huge. Even more exceptional, however, is the fact that I think I might actually learn to like this.

I mean, of course, I like this. I wouldn't have pursued this as a career if I didn't like it. But the fretting? The nervousness? The pacing? That all makes the performance side of circus a little less enjoyable. And I suppose there will always be some nervousness, but there's the kind that feels like excitement and the kind that feels like dread. I've always had a closer relationship with dread than excitement. But slowly, I think that's going to change. Each night during the bows, I look out into the audience and feel more and more at ease. I'm having more fun and slowly, I'm starting to perform for the sheer pleasure of it. On the one hand, that may seem selfish. But when an artist goes on stage for pleasure, for love, for passion and just has fun, all of those wonderful feelings are passed on to the audience. And that's a generous gift to give.

I also feel more and more addicted to the applause. And let me tell you, the French are incredibly generous with their applause. We're talking three or four bows generous. After a matinee, even. A matinee! At home, I often feel that we (the artists) linger on stage for too long and force the audience to clap. Here, I feel almost embarrassed because they won't stop. Its amazing.

Another personal change I'm noticing is that I'm much more gentle with myself. When my number goes poorly, I'm able to shake it off much more quickly than in the past. I take lessons from it and look towards tomorrow. It true, after night's two and three I was wondering if I could hack it. But after the Sunday show (which went brilliantly) it was a like a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders. I can do this. There will be off nights, but in the end, there will likely be way more good nights.

I think part of this openness comes from the feeling that this tour is limitless. The other contracts I've had were short term and consisted of relatively few shows. Under those circumstances, you kind of feel like you need to bust out a perfect number. Preferably many of them. But now, I have three to four years of work ahead of me. New dates get added to the tour all the time. I suddenly feel like I'm free to let the number and my skills evolve as they will without having to worry so much about what I look like along the way.

I thought I was starting a new chapter in my life. But now, I think its more like a brand installment in a continuing series! Who knows what the following days (and months) will bring!

Sloppy Seconds

As I've mentioned previously, there is always a risk of the second and third night being less than stellar. I finally understand that a lot of that comes the release of doing the show for the first time and giving the accumulated fatigue a crack to slip through. Needless to say, nights two and three were a little soft, and a little slow.

The second night, I made so many mistakes in my number, I couldn't believe it. They were mostly little errors, many of which I've never made before. Never the less, I was very pleased with the work that I did. Not the number, but the work. And it was work.

That second night, I worked at being an artist and a professional. Perfection, while perhaps the objective, will never actually be reached. And so, despite the many, many difficulties that came my way, I worked through them. Hid them with elegant manipulations and a smile. Its true, there were two moments where I think I let the difficulty show in my face, but only for a moment. Like I said, it was work, but really good work. So even though it was far from what I expect of myself, I am still pleased and proud of the steps that I took. That's a very positive thing.

Unfortunately, the third night was just bad. While there were fewer mistakes, it was just a hard number. I had an actual fall and really struggled. I still did the work, but I must admit, I couldn't help but wonder if I can do this. Night after night for the next four years...

One show left before a couple of days off. We'll see what happens.

Extra! Extra! Read All About It!

So much to write about, but for now, I'll let someone else do the talking. The first articles are appearing in the local and regional papers and it looks like the show is a hit! Already we've had rave reviews from the public so the positive press is icing on the cake!

From Le Progrès de Lyon

"Hommages ou dérision, les clins d'œil et références aux peintres évitent toute pesanteur et mettent en valeur les artistes circassiens, comme K.D., dans une prouesse à la roue allemande qui cloue le spectateur à son banc." - Christiane Barbault

For those who don't speak French, loosely translated that means In homage to or in mockery of, the nods and references to art avoid being too heavy and support the circus artists, like K.D., in prowess on the German wheel, who nails audience members to their seats.

Read the whole article here.

There's another, even better review that, unfortunately, I am unable to access online unless I pay for it. As such, you'll have to contain your curiosity until I can get my hands on a copy and transcribe the good bits.

In the meantime, enjoy this photo from the show, also from Le Progrès de Lyon.

The Aftermath Part 3

Have you ever had a moment where your heart suddenly lifts and and you're not quite sure you can contain it? Where you feel like it might burst and you're not even sure you can take the next step forward? That's what happened to me right before going on stage. And I must admit, those first few seconds face to face with the audience were panic stricken. I could feel that the look on my face was of more of the shocked variety than what it should have been. But it only lasted a moment. Indeed, those first few minutes on stage flew by and I have hardly any recollection of them at all.

Put on my mask (literally), pick up my frame, one step, one flip at a time...

Of course, the most important moment of the show for me is my number. That goes without saying. And the moment sneaks up rather quickly in the show. I'm lucky enough to have a five minute window where I can visualize my number beforehand. Then its one last whirlwind moment on stage, costume change, warm up and go. I don't know that I really needed a warm up last night though. I was so nervous, I felt like I was radiating heat.

I'd love to write some epic paragraph about how the number went. But there's no point. Despite it being their role, words will never do the moment justice. And so, I will simply say this: I fucking rocked it.

It was incredible. Yes, the number went well. The technique was well executed. But it was the audience. The audience! Everything I did, I did it for them and because of them. I was propelled by something much greater than myself. And then the applause... the applause! I have never been on the receiving end of anything like the thunderous roar that erupted from the public last night. I almost started crying. It was so moving, so beautiful... it was one of the most exhilarating moments of my life.

But the show wasn't over yet. We weren't even half way through. Out of breath and walking on air, I changed my costume and continued with the manipulations backstage and readied myself for the rest. The rest? It flew by. Flew by! It was sweat and anticipation, laughter and joy. It went so, so well.

People told me I set the stage on fire, that in my bazooka moment (you'd need to see the show to understand) I was absolutely hilarious. One of the few criticisms I received was that I was a little too femme fatale during my number for so and so's taste.

Me? A femme fatale?

Best flaw ever!

But now, its 6pm Friday evening. The premiere has come and gone and its already time to get ready for show number two. I'm still nervous. Maybe even more nervous than yesterday. Everyone keeps saying that the second night is harder, that with the fatigue and the release of the first night, we let down our guard.

Two and a half hours from now, the curtain goes up. Two hours after that, we'll have an answer.

The Aftermath Part 2

There is nervousness, and then there is sheer dread. We're talking verge of tears, unable to utter simple phrases and sitting in stunned, but trembling, silence.

That's where I was yesterday afternoon. I needed hugs. I needed love. I needed.

It occurred to me that this would be the first time in my entire life that I wouldn't have my family, my friends or my community by my side for an opening. I suddenly felt incredibly alone. Here I was on the biggest, most important moment of my career so far, and I hadn't heard heads nor tails from home.

An e-mail from my brother... one line... but the best line I have ever read in my life. But where were mum and dad?

Not hearing from my parents really hit hard. I wandered back to the kitchen to be around people. I just needed people. I didn't think I could really communicate with them, but apparently, the deer in the headlights look said it all. And that's when it started...

"Above all, go out there for your own pleasure. Have fun. Its all about enjoying yourself."

"Hey, come one, you're the World Champion!"

"It will be fine. No matter what happens, they will love you. All those people out there? 95% have no idea what they're looking at. If you make a mistake, they'll never know."

"This is a birth, no matter what, it will be beautiful. Whether its painful or easy, it will be beautiful."

"It will be magical. After all this time, effort, pain... it has to be. It can't be anything else. It will be magical."

But my favourite piece of advice came from a very dear friend of mine who has been with this company for perhaps 15 years. He told me that what he likes to do is take a moment, before anyone arrives, to sit in the public. Just to take a moment to be, and to be a part of this whole circus entity. I don't think I have ever taken a moment to go into the stands and look down on the stage. Earlier in the day, I went out on stage and looked out in to the seats. That's when a voice called down from the technical grid and said, "Yup, and its going to be full of 1000 people!"

Did I mention that the last show I was in sometimes only had 20 people in the audience?

Wanting to shake the fear that had been building, I went to sit in the stands. I had never seen the stage from that perspective. It helped, but not as much as the crying I did (on the shoulder of my same dear friend) a little later.

I put on my make up, I made many trips to the bathroom, I forced down some dinner. I still hadn't heard from my parents and I was slowly sinking into a terrible mood. I wasn't at all excited. And then, looking at the program, I was that I was credited as the "young girl in the wheel". My heart sank. I was not the young woman in the wheel, but the young girl. All that fighting over three months and in order to win, they put it in ink. I didn't even want to go on stage.

Now if you're thinking "that can't be a good way to start a show, let alone the first show of the tour!", you're right. The worst part is, I had no idea how to get out of that state of mind. The good news is I didn't need to know how. It turns out the circus gods wouldn't allow it.

The hugs started. The energy under the big top became tangible. Then, the crowd came in. They were electric. They were infectious. The show hadn't even started and they were cheering. My stomach is in knots just remembering it. Its supposed to be the artist that goes out and gives a gift to the audience. But they lifted me up and took me in their hands before they even saw me, eradicating the storm clouds in my heart. They gave me a gift.

The lights went down. The curtains parted. It was show time...

The Aftermath Part 1

It is Friday morning. The premiere has come and gone. There were so many moments yesterday where I wanted to write but couldn't sit still long enough to it. In the end, it was for the best. I needed to be "in the present" as one of my colleagues here often says.

I'm going to write about the day in different installments. Partly because I really feel like the day can be divided into different parts, but mostly because it will be really long otherwise.

Yesterday was a crazy roller coaster kind of day. I'm pretty sure I was in a state of shock upon waking up. For the better part of the morning, I don't think I felt anything at all. I don't mean I wasn't nervous. I mean I was completely numb. In case you're wondering, that is a bad place to be.

I think the better part of the morning was spent wandering around aimlessly. I did maybe 15 minutes of wheel to go over a couple of moves that had been giving me trouble in the two previous runs before continuing the aimless wandering. During brief moments, my eyes unglazed and I was able to see the circus around me. Its really a beautiful thing, this circus life. Where we are right now, though tiny and quiet, is beautiful and serene. We're surrounded by mountains, there are little forts looking down on us. The sun was shining, the grass tall and green, and the trees around us are all blossoming. The caravans, the dogs, the sounds of preparation... all these things make up the magical little world I'm now a part of. And I am a part of it. In that moment, I was overwhelmed by just how amazing it is for me to be here, to be part of a troupe and part of a show. I'm in the feakin' circus!

It was after this moment of awe and wonderment that I slipped into the second phase of my premiere day...